


Saviours

by N0V0C41NE



Series: The Beginning to... [2]
Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gangs, It's going to be an adventure!, M/M, Never did something like this before, Never mind they are going to be at least 200 words each, i'm going to try 300, or maybe 300 might be the minimum, so there may be beta'd chapters, vengeance, very very short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-11-16 12:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N0V0C41NE/pseuds/N0V0C41NE
Summary: They need to be saved.





	1. Craig & Tyler : Imperfect

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  These are drabbles that may link or be a whole new perspective to the men from Gunshots, thus characters that have been introduced will be here, and new characters will appear here as well. Of course, requesting a window for a pairing or a single person is very much accepted!
> 
>   
>  There is also no need to read the actual storyline, but it would help if you do, just to understand some of these to a better level!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 317

Their relationship was impure. Utterly sweet. Yet still very bitter. Their bonds were tight, but their lives were a mess. They didn't mind, of course. They dragged themselves into the mess without hesitation. Maybe for Tyler. But not for Craig. You see, Craig is a man of freedom. A man of life. He wishes to see the world in its beauty, not in its ugly. He wanted to travel, he wanted to breathe the salty air of the Mauritius beach he so very much wanted to see. Whilst Tyler was a man of the dark, he worked in the shadows for men with power, he worked besides a man who would bring fire to Earth if any of them were hurt, especially one, and he had the highest chance to become insane if Craig was not around.

 

 

“Tyler…”

 

 

He was everything to Craig. Now that wasn't a lie. Craig loved Tyler so very much, and would do anything for him. Even if it would mean him taking a bullet for Tyler. He would paint himself red for the man he loved to the depths of shadows. He didn't care. So maybe, just maybe, he didn't mind his current life.

 

 

No, he didn't.

 

 

So, what did he do? He took over the world technology. He became the man who was infamous for his capabilities. He became a man whom people did target. He became a man who designed the signal disrupter that caused a panic in the hearts of men who were too darn dependent on their own tech. He also became a man who would be the cause of death-becoming headaches that a man named Tyler would have to endure.

 

 

“You better wake the fuck up, or I will slit your throat.”

 

 

“As if you could do that, C.”

 

 

Craig never did know that a heart attack was bad. And he found that out the quick way.


	2. Jonathan & Evan : Teddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Featuring : Ryan and Luke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 381

Evan didn't know just how much Jonathan loved to cling. He really didn't. He only had a glimpse, a feel, of just how much his best friend loved to cling. Luke returned from a mission in Egypt, and being gone for a few months, Evan found himself not being able to walk for a couple of days (yeah, Luke was that deprived), and also found that Jonathan was clinging onto his partner for… days.

 

 

Ryan came over, and told Evan that Luke was stuck at their own home because Jonathan refused to let him go. And also told Evan that it really happened more times than Evan did imagine (which was never because Jonathan was too delirious and chaotic), and not to worry about it.

 

 

Evan found it funny that Jonathan didn't cling onto Ryan as much as he did to Luke—damn, the laugh he received from the man with sea green eyes was worrying, he nearly laughed his lungs out—and didn't find it funny when Ryan told him that he had gotten worse.

 

 

At that point, Evan doesn't know his best friend well since, what in the absolute fuck, he was only gone (closest thing to what really happened to not send Luke to a raging fit: kidnapped) for a night, or three, Jonathan had tackled him to the ground and gave him a hug that could have been his cause of death.

 

 

“Don't you dare get yourself in that type of trouble ever again!” Jonathan had said (more like scolded like an angry mother). “Or I will throw you into a pit of man-eating shrimps, and let canines into that pit, and dissect you without precision.”

 

 

“Sorry, Del.” Evan managed a very, very tight laugh as he brought his best friend into a hug, “I will try my best to keep myself away from trouble.”

 

 

Well, who knew Jonathan could be cute? And scary at the same time. Evan really did wonder how Ryan did keep himself sane from Jonathan's changing personality — don't get him wrong, but Jon could turn vicious in seconds and turn passive in another few.

 

 

(Evan truly believed Ryan had married a darn teddy that could eat brains for breakfast. You know, like the teddies with gigantic mowing down type of teeth? Yeah.)


	3. Bryce & Ryan : Unleash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 326

“Looking for that blue eyed soul?”

 

 

“You're awake?”

 

 

“Just answer my question, Ry.”

 

 

Ryan had to sigh for the nth time that day. But he didn't hide the fact that he was smiling. Every single time Bryce was caught in a gun fight, the guy would turn insane. Okay, not as insane as Jonathan, but he was insane. And a week ago (or rather, three), let's just say the insanity drove Bryce to the infirmary.

 

 

“What can I say? You were in a coma for two and a half weeks. Jonathan nearly killed everyone.”

 

 

“I drove him mad? Okay, that is terrifying.”

 

 

“Thank goodness I was there to stop him before he could make anything worse.”

 

 

A fractured femur, a torn wrist ligament, a concussion, a bullet hole straight through the lower leg, a bruised bum and many other injured parts what was Ryan had to try and heal as soon as he could. However… Bryce was being stubborn.

 

 

“But, at least, I'm awake.”

 

 

“You do know Jon will kill me if I don't get you out of here.”

 

 

“He loves you way too much, Ry. He won't be able to hurt a single hair on that sexy body of yours.” Bryce laughed lowly as Ryan's cheeks flared a bright red, “it's true.”

 

 

Bryce really wanted to shut up, but the Morphine wasn't helping. Not even close. Though, he was saying half of the truth. Or maybe, the whole truth. He knew how much Jonathan loved Ryan, and how much the former would sacrifice for the latter's life. He found that out during the gun fight. Ryan had gone down with a hard hit to the back of the head, and Jonathan had gone wild.

 

 

The blonde really did wish their enemies would just understand to never cross with Jonathan because… well… he was scary.

 

 

But so was Bryce and he would unleash Hell if anyone were to hurt Ryan. Or anyone else for that matter.


	4. Evan & Craig : Distraction(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Featuring : Brock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 315

Craig couldn't escape the fact that a certain Asian was distracting the shit out of him. He was supposed to help Brock assemble an 'EMP thing' (as Craig calls it), but he was interrupted by a loud thud sound to his left, and before he even realised, Evan had snuck through security (also known as Tyler). The British swore that his arms were being too deli— _naked_ , and Evan was going to die by his hand if he didn't leave the room in ten seconds. Make it 20.

 

 

Maybe more than those number of seconds.

 

 

Depended on how long Craig wanted to stare at his ar—

 

 

 _Ahem_.

 

 

It depended on how long his temper would tolerate with someone being in his private space—except for Brock, he's “a'ight”—and carrying around an RP-46 like as if it was a twig (and mind you, Craig didn't mean it by Evan's buff arms and his strength making his able to carry that gun. ~~Th~~ ~~at was too obvious, though.~~  But like as if it wasn't delicate).

 

 

One last swing of the gun, Craig had to let his nerves die down just a little before he made a sound. “Ev,” a hum as his response, “why the Hell are you in my office.” His tone offered no question, but demand.  _Not that I don't like it, but you're really distracting and if you don't leave, Jonathan will kill me for not completing my job on time, and Luke will kill me for staring at your arms for too long—shit. Ryan will also kill Jonathan for killing me. THIS WORLD IS MESSED UP._

 

 

“Ah, well,” _the smile_ (damn it, out of all expressions to choose from!), “just wanted to test my bad boy out, C. Hope it's okay.”

 

 

Damn.

 

 

The wheeze Brock heard was enough to shake the goddamn universe.

 

 

And yes. It was _not_ Evan who'd made that sound.


	5. Tyler & Scott : Cigarettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Featuring : Craig, Ryan, Jonathan and Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 408

“Scott, get the fuck out of here.”

 

 

So, Tyler and Craig were having a fight and Scott came in at the wrong time. All he wanted to do was fetch a microfibre towel for Ryan because Hope had spilled her orange juice all over their table—it was _the_ table where they had their meetings and all. You know, the interactive table that Jonathan bought for almost over a million dollars. Surely, that monster of a screen had to be over two million, but Scott was too scared to ask. Money gave him heart attacks.

 

 

(“Please remind Ryan to never bring his daughter to our work place,” Scott said—whined.

 

 

“She’s my daughter too, asshole.” Jonathan growled, but the menace was no where near his words.)

 

 

Anyway, Tyler was having a fight with Craig, and judging by the latter’s face, it was an immature fight that should have never started. Scott came to find Tyler’s face, and the latter stormed out without any word, knowing that Scott was frozen in place and wouldn’t be moving any time soon. Thus, when Tyler left, Scott immediately went to Craig and asked, “what the fuck happened?” A pause to let Craig answer his question—which didn’t come, “C, come on. You gotta let me know so I can help.”

 

 

“Nah,” Craig sighed, “it’s better to hear it from the man himself.”

 

 

And so Scott did. He found Tyler on the balcony that looked towards the skyline, smoking away at his cigarette. He looked exactly like he didn’t want to talk, but Scott pressed on after ending up by his side, “dude, what the Hell is wrong with you? You’ve been so cool with Craig, and now this to happen all of a sudden—”

 

 

“He was hiding my fucking cigarettes,” Tyler rebutted (more like interjected), “doesn’t he know that I have to have cigarettes? Like, hello, I’m dependent on them.”

 

 

“Look, Ty,” Scott exhaled, eyes wandering off to meet the horizon, peeking through the skyline, “C is just worried. The more you smoke, the more you’re exposed to shit we can’t avoid—that Ryan can’t avoid. He knows Ryan can’t do everything—sure, he can do some magic, but not all. And besides, with you starting to smoke again… it’s making you slow, and Jon realises that. You’ve got to stop smoking.”

 

 

“But—”

 

 

“No fucking ‘but’s. Go apologise to Craig, and stop the smoking already.”

 

 

And so Tyler did.


	6. Marcel & Scott : Language

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Featuring : Ryan and Jonathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 361

“MARCEL.”

 

 

“WHAT!?”

 

 

“I'M FUCKING HUNGRY.”

 

 

“GO FUCKING EAT, THEN!”

 

 

That was how their life was being lived. Marcel and Scott. Scott and Marcel. The two idiots. They were one of the cutest, but one of the loudest people the gang knew because of their endless bickering. People, until this day, wonder where their audacity came from. But the thing was, the arguments were never heated. They never ended with one storming out, it never ended with the cold shoulder, and it never ended with another argument of stupidity.

 

 

“WILL YOU GUYS SHUT UP?” T'was Jon. “I AM TRYING TO HAVE A CONVERSATION WITH MY MAMA.”

 

 

_“Jonathan, don't be rude!”_

 

 

“But ma—”

 

 

Marcel and Scott could only wheeze out their laughs, knowing that it was a rare sight for Jonathan to be calling his mother. Usually, it would be him being on the phone with Luke, needing to know how he was since he was always hunting; sometimes the phone calls were with Evan, and even more common with Ryan. But then again, they all did call their mothers (they weren't entirely insane or bad, okay?) when… well, when something shit had happened.

 

 

“Do you think he'll let you out?” Scott asked, tilting his head to the side as he watched Marcel shuffle around in the infirmary.

 

 

“Do you think he'll let you out? Now that's the prime question here, Scotty boy.” Marcel replied, eyes scooting over to Scoot, who had moved to stand next to him by the counter with the sink. “You're the one who got fucking shot up in his ass.”

 

 

“Hey. It's called the arm, thank you very much,” Scott said, “and you know me. I can't sit down and do nothing after a fight that had flown a bullet straight to my arm.”

 

 

“It's called a bullet to the shoulder, thank you very much.” Marcel snorted.

 

 

“HEY. How dare you use my words on me!”

 

 

“I have every shitting right, Scott.” A pause, “and besides, you're dumb as fuck.”

 

 

“MARCEL.”

 

 

“SCOTT.”

 

 

“WILL YOU GUYS SHUT THE FUCK UP? I'M FUCKING TRYING TO FUCKING TALK TO FUCKING RYAN.”

 

 

_“FOR THE LOVE OF OUR RELATIONSHIP, WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE.”_


	7. Brian & Craig : Misunderstood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Featuring : Ryan and Jonathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 462

Brian never knew how much Craig meant to him until he left. He always bullied him, he always chose him last—whatever he could do to be mean, he would do. But when Ryan had gone into a coma; when Tyler, and Scott went rogue; and when Jonathan told the rest what happened, Brian couldn't breathe.

 

  
_They_  couldn't breathe.

 

  
It wasn't fair.

 

  
For no one.

 

  
Brian knew just how much Craig meant to him when he visited Ryan in the hospital. Two weeks passed after the incident, and Brian walked into the room with Jonathan plastered against the corner of the room, Ryan with a dagger in hand and tears in his eyes; bloodshot.

 

  
“I killed him, Brian,” Ryan mumbled, the tears falling once again as sea green eyes met blue; his head lifted as he took blue into his own, revealing scratch marks all over the length of his neck: self-inflicted. He dropped the dagger to the floor. “He's gone.”

 

  
The loud thud of a body hitting the floor shocked Brian, but he remained frozen in his spot. Only Jon moved, sprinting over to Ryan's side. “Ryan!” He screamed, “come on, wake up.”

 

 

He's gone.

 

 

He was killed.

 

 

Not by Ryan because Brian was so sure a man as sweet as Ryan would never touch Craig. So very sure because why the Hell would a man like Ryan, who was Craig's best friend, kill him? Was Tyler tainted? Did he hear or watch something that threw him off? Making a fist, Brian clenched his jaw. Blue eyes turned a blood red as he imagined the pain and the suffering—he could only imagine.

 

 

“Where's Tyler?” Brian asked, blue eyes watching Jonathan as he moved from bed to sofa; hands shaking from the sheer malice that was running through his veins.

 

 

“I don't know, and I don't give a damn.” Voice growling harsh, “do you know how hard it is to watch Ryan have nightmares that I cannot stop? Do you know how much it hurts to have him be blamed for Craig's death when clearly he's our Doctor?” Blue eyes far brighter than Brian's flared in anger, but never sharing eye contact with the latter. “Ryan loved Craig for who he was. They were the best of friends, Brian. Why couldn't Tyler see that?”

 

 

Brian's eyes fluttered to a shut, a shaky breath leaving his lungs. He didn't know what to say. No words were conjured in his mind, on his tongue; no where. Thus, he let silence play its melody—and their thoughts ran around. Vengeance waltz. Death tangoed. The smell of iron sauntered back and forth, melting the atmosphere.

 

 

“We will get him back,” Brian promised under his breath, fists still made by his side, “we need him back.”


	8. Unknown : Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 506

“I can't feel his heart beat.”

 

 

The rough, bloodied voice ripped through his chords.

 

 

“He's too cold, I can't—”

 

 

He was too cold to touch. To hug. To protect. Strong arms hugged the lifeless man so tightly, his muscles could only whine and grit against the pain the morphine subsided for a time he had forgotten how much pain he had been. The tears, not being shed after years, were seen clear as crystal; teeth started to grit, eyes screwed to a shut. His head whipped up to scream at the sky. To bring him back. To take him instead. The people around to only jerk to a freeze - could only watch and not speak. The arms around him going tight; he couldn't breathe.

 

 

He was being suffocated by the loss.

 

 

“No, no, no!” He could hear after he had gone limp, the screaming had ended and the rain just started; drumming against the ground. Eyes going cloudy, he could only feel the hands roam all over, trying to get him to stay. “Stay with us!” That voiced shrieked through the rain.

 

 

Then.

 

 

In the distance, a single swing in a park. A hand beckoning him to go forth and into the sun; a boy's hand. His voice, whispering out: _I'm fine, don't worry about me_. The sun was so high in the sky, the sky so blue it shone - clouds so white, no grey was seen.

 

 

So warm. Like a mother's warmth enveloping him whole.

 

 

He felt his friend being pulled away—a breeze making the swing move. Extra pair of arms grabbing at him, hugging him close. Afraid to let go. Tears of a ravine splashing like there's nothing there to stop it. Roses as red as blood scatter around the only swing. There he was. A five-year-old with the most innocent look on his face; fingers grasping at the metal chains that held the swing.

 

 

His smile full of life.

 

 

_I'm fine. It's a nice place._

 

 

Then the park grew so far into the distance; flowers, and trees—people were there, too. The ones who died. Rome recognised them so very well.

 

 

_We'll be here. Watching over you. Now go back, yeah? He needs you more than you think._

 

 

A breath ripped out of his lungs, and his eyes flashed with a certain life. Arms pulled away to steady the man who was shaking like a leaf, breathing harsher as each second passed.

 

 

“Can you hear me?” The man in his line of sight asked, beckoning another to slide in next to him so that he was in the former's line of view.

 

 

At each word, his pearly white were stained red— “he... I...” his voice raspy, he gagged out an ear-splitting cough before the continuation, “he's gone, isn't he?” His eyes flickered over to the both of them; the corner of his eye noticing the fallen. His eyes fell shut and he buried his face in his hands, and sobbed a silent cry.

 

 

He was gone.

 

 

So far away.


	9. Ryan & Sam : Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Featuring : Jonathan and Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Word count : 488

Sam watched his parent moving to lean against the balcony's railing; soft brown hair dancing in the wind like a mother's caress suddenly rested. Near-neon blue eyes wandered off to find them resting upon a girl younger than he was, she nestled her weight against another man with the very same blue eyes as he when they played with a teddy bear whilst the TV still flashed.

 

 

Very few nights, he realised, would the four be a proper family—and this night settled amongst.

 

 

Two men got married, adopted a boy and girl—all the while being... dangerous men who could tear the world apart if they wanted to. Sam really did find it ameliorating his mood every time he would come to think about it; a smile flickered and vanished with the thought still lingering before he moved to his parent out on the balcony.

 

 

“Dad?” He called, settling next to the man with hazelnut hair.

 

 

A deep chuckle rose that made him shiver, “no longer calling me 'Ma'?” 

 

 

You see, just as a reminder, Sam was brought up by two men who got married after he'd been adopted. Seemed like a funny story, but he didn't judged—love was a funny thing and it was nice to know that his parents would die for each other. Jonathan, with a larger stature than Ryan and the one with black hair, was so busy being the Boss, he had no time to be... anywhere but outside. And Ryan, having endured pain far greater than Sam could even imagine, stayed home to take care of Hope and himself. That's why Sam started calling Ryan 'Ma'—well, it was a joke at first, and then it kind of grew from there.

 

 

“Well, as you can already tell, I forced myself to not call you 'Ma'.” Sam huffed—blue meeting the same skyline as sea green. An arm encased his shoulders, pulling him against warmth and he nuzzled against the elder with a sigh. “Are you okay?” Ryan asked, unmasking the worry in his voice. “I know there's—”

 

 

There was a silence that nearly wrecked both males. But Ryan knew better than to press further than necessary. Turning the younger male to face him, the parent kneeled to match the younger's height. Blue matched green before a soft tap was planted upon a pale forehead, and the hand drew back as a smile drew forward. “You're okay,” sea-green said, “I'm here.”

 

 

A flash of pink ascended to the boy's cheeks, and a sheepish grin landed on his own pair of lips—and just in the corner of the two eyes that matched his parent's own, tears pricked at his lashes. Fingers rubbed at his forehead and a soft giggle left his chords before he spoke. “Don't leave, Ma.”

 

 

“I won't.”

 

 

_It's a promise, sweetheart._

 

 

And somewhere, a glorious sun rose with a gentle warmth.


End file.
